


Come With Me, My Love

by dxbshevd



Series: Dani x Jamie Stories [2]
Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Canon Lesbian Relationship, Canonical Character Death, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Mutual Pining, One Shot, fair warning, there isn't really a plot i guess just a study, this one is just straight up depressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27787291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dxbshevd/pseuds/dxbshevd
Summary: “The sounds of sirens, screeching brakes, and gentle winds that were once consuming Dani, soon dissipate into something trivial once she catches the most gut-wrenching and piercing sound she has ever come to know. A sound that she has heard before, thankfully not often, over the years. She has never gotten used to it. She won’t. She can’t.It is a sound that she desperately tried to prevent, to repair whenever she heard it. But this time it is a deafening and harrowing thing; a thing that she can’t fix. It is worse than she has ever remembered. So much worse, that it is tearing and scratching at her skin until it feels raw, enveloping her in a hold that is suffocating and frigid.It’s Jamie.”ORFollowing her death, Dani is forced into her own cycle of drowning, waking, and turning up beside Jamie. She watches on as grief consumes Jamie in her absence.Cruelly, Dani only has the power to observe, but, in her ever daring and diligent spirit, she finds ways to feel, heal, and be with Jamie, little by little.This is one big, intense, angst-filled fic, so prepare for that. Also, I edited this myself, so I apologize for any mistakes.
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie
Series: Dani x Jamie Stories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057250
Comments: 31
Kudos: 91





	Come With Me, My Love

Blue, crystal, rippling, and clear. It is all Dani sees. A view that blurs as she’s losing the ability to breathe. She is panicking now. She is heaving and gasping until she wills her body to rise. She rises from the water, but she’s greeted with darkness. A darkness that is so unexpected that Dani shuts her eyes in defense of how startlingly blinding it is. 

Mellowed out sounds of the night drip into her ears. So quiet, but so overwhelming as she is stunned that she can hear anything at all. Once she opens her eyes, she is surprised that she can see. But she’s dead. She knows she is. The unabated, strangling feeling of drowning was grim enough of a confirmation. She is dead, but she is here. In their apartment. 

The street lamps and stars scattered in the Vermont sky perfectly pitch a beam of soft light through the windows to where Dani can survey her surroundings. Everything is the same, almost untouched. Untouched in a way that is mildly startling instead of comforting. It feels sterile and rigid. 

It still smells the same. Like vanilla and lavender with a familiar musk that is surely from the abundance of antiques, plants, and old books that are strewed about the small apartment.

The sounds of sirens, screeching brakes, and soft wind that were once consuming Dani, soon dissipate into something trivial once she catches the most gut-wrenching and piercing sound she has ever come to know. A sound that she has heard before, thankfully not often, over the years. She has never gotten used to it. She won’t. She can’t. 

It is a sound that she desperately tried to prevent, to repair whenever she heard it. But this time it is a deafening and harrowing thing; a thing that she can’t fix. It is worse than she has ever remembered. So much worse, that it is tearing and scratching at her skin until it feels raw, enveloping her in a hold that is suffocating and frigid. 

It’s Jamie. 

Down the hall, her guttural sobs are muffled by their distance. But Dani can hear them all the same as if they are amplified and blaring in her ear. They are swarming her and taunting her. 

She can hear the slurred messages littered about Jamie’s low keening, but the apparent distress and delirium in her state prevent them from being clearly deciphered. Dani thinks she catches the little pleads and proclamations littered within Jamie’s etiolated voice. And with each interpreted message in Jamie’s voice, Dani feels a debilitating shock probe her. 

As much as her heart is reaching out to gather Jamie and remedy her despair, Dani can’t move. Dani’s feet are plastered to the floor; she’s so stiff that her legs are numb. Her muscles are taut and her body is straining at the sound that is instilling so much panic in her. But she fights through, and with all of her might, she puts one foot before the other. She’s hurrying down the hall; internally, she observes the weightlessness and the silence of her steps. An odd and unwelcome reminder of her lifelessness. 

Dani abruptly stops at the bathroom door once she sees the tame water glisten from the bathtub. She stares at its soft rippling as if it is hypnotizing. It is puzzling that it is full given there isn’t a person to fill it. The water looks abandoned and cold. The idea of still, unused water is troubling. Dani can’t understand why, not yet, but it is startling nonetheless. 

A distant whimper and gasp for air pull Dani from her fixation. She stares at the door – their bedroom door – hesitant to move. The anxiety behind her uncertainty is paralyzing. She has no idea what will happen if she walks in. Will Jamie see her? Does she want Jamie to see her? No, of course, she doesn’t. Right? 

The door is ajar, an odd thing given Jamie always insisted on keeping it shut at night. Dani can fondly remember Jamie rationalizing that shutting the door at night meant they would have time to escape a burglar if one was to ever bombard their home. She could almost smile at the memory, but she doesn’t. She can’t with what she is being forced to endure. 

Dani slips in and stops in her tracks when she sees Jamie laying there in a fetal position looking so small and feeble. She’s on the left side of the bed, Dani’s side. She has her arm clutched around and face buried in Dani’s pillow. Her body is convulsing within wretched sobs. 

“Come back to me, Dani. Come back to me,” Jamie stammers softly, finishing it off with hitched breaths as she tries to steady herself. 

Just when Dani thinks Jamie has mellowed out and finally found it in herself to rest. She turns over instead. Laying on her back, she covers her face with her hands, only to fall deeper into the endless pit of grief she has been engulfed by. 

Dani can faintly see Jamie’s fingers grip at her scalp and her palms push into her eyes. She watches the shape of Jamie’s mouth crease and stretch into a shape that is haunting. The sound of her coughing desperately for air as she weeps is deafening. 

If Dani had tears to will, she is sure they’d be streaming down her face until they puddle at her feet and drown her again. But the view is sobering to the point that she can’t do much else than watch. Stare as Jamie sinks into her agony and abandonment. A pain that she caused. One provided so selfishly that she didn’t even say goodbye. Hadn’t even pulled her into her chest where she could tangle her hand through Jamie’s curls and feel the way their bodies perfectly molded together just one last time. Hadn’t even tenderly kissed her, to feel those lips one more time. Hadn’t even looked her in the eye to apologize and explain. 

She left a note. 

A slap in the face she realizes now. She spent over a decade with the woman before her, and she left her a note. What kind of closure is that? 

Dani is always so sure of herself and her decisions, but now she is inundated with guilt. Remorse that is so heavy she can almost feel her body concaving and toppling in at the weight. It is aching and nipping at her. Scolding her for her foolishness and disregard. Until it consumes her. 

Then she’s falling, sinking and she’s drowning again. She’s gone. Her personal, vicious cycle. She sinks and she drowns only to wake, rise, and turn up by Jamie. Where the sight of Jamie grieving is shoved in her face. Over and over again it pummels her. 

It is painful in the same way as it is relieving. She would give anything to make it all disappear, to see Jamie happy, but she can’t help but find so much relief in seeing her again. Nonetheless, Dani is towered by her helplessness where she can’t comfort Jamie, can’t apologize, can’t fix it. 

Dani watches on as Jamie struggles day to day. Packing away Dani’s things because she can no longer tolerate seeing them. Jamie will easily become enveloped in sobs when she sees something that reminds her just enough of Dani. She will clutch it to her chest and cry out for her. Passionately, she screams at her through her pain and sorrow as if she could see her there in front of her. Dani wonders for a split moment if Jamie can really see her because of how intentionally every curse and shout strike her like a heavy blow to the chest. 

Dani watches on as Jamie goes through her nightly routine. She fills the bathtub, drops to her knees, and stares at her reflection. She lets the faucet run until she can look in the sink, then her eyes drift up to the mirror where she is met with herself. The way Jamie’s shoulders sink in genuine disappointment and longing is a blunt pain that wrings Dani. 

Once Dani realizes she repeatedly suffers through this routine because she is trying to see her, she almost does try to reveal herself to Jamie. She has no idea how, no idea if it is even possible. But she’d be damned if she didn’t try to give Jamie anything she ever wanted. 

After too much hesitation, she doesn’t try. If she were to succeed, she knows what it will do to Jamie. It will heal her at the same time as it will break her. It isn’t worth it, so Dani steps back and closes her eyes. Within her own guilty luxury of escape, one thing Jamie is not so privileged to have, she sinks and drowns until she will inevitably return later. 

Dani watches on as Jamie closes the florist and leaves Vermont. Hears her say that remaining in the apartment, let alone the whole state of Vermont, was too painful, too lonely. She settles in London in a flat so empty, bleak, and grey. A stark contrast to how bright and lively their apartment together was. Dani wanders around her flat to see the numerous photos of Jamie and her that are around. A few on shelves, others beside the bed, and a couple littered around the place as Jamie often finds herself emptying out the photos to see Dani again. 

The mail is scattered around the floor at her door. Papers and clutter are covering the table and about every other surface in the place. The plants, half are thriving, the other half are wilting. 

Like clockwork, Jamie sits across from a window and stares out, cigarette between trembling fingertips that lift to her paling lips every couple of moments to take in a deep, stinging draw of smoke into her lungs to desperately chase after any kind of sensation to invigorate her. And she stares at nothing; her eyes are blank and her face is neutral. Numb and indifferent it seems. 

Dani watches on as Jamie’s hair exponentially greys over the months following her death. She observes the way Jamie’s skin becomes paler and how purpled under her eyes have become. Her eyes themselves are dark and hazy. She observes the way Jamie forces a false smile here in there, for the people on the streets or the people who greet her in the market. But it always falls back to her furrowed frown. In fact, Dani never sees her genuinely smile. Unless it is a half crooked smirk whenever she can remember Dani just right for a few seconds until it dissolves into her affliction.

Dani watches on through every bout of agony Jamie is dealt with. Every time, Dani covers her mouth with her palm, face permanently marked with furrowed brows and welling eyes. She bites back her sobs as the sight of Jamie is about the most awful thing she has ever seen. She wishes to lunge forward and embrace her. Hush her and tell her she’s there. That she’ll always be there and that she never left. But she did, so she is forced to look on as Jamie sobs, screams, laments for Dani. Begs for her return. Pleads with anyone and anything to bring Dani back. The way she asks why this has happened to her has Dani buckling and falling again. _I love you, Jamie,_ she thinks, or maybe she says it. She can’t tell. But she is sinking again and she is drowning. _I love you_ before it’s dark. 

Dani watches on as Jamie goes through a particular episode of anger at her situation. So fed up with her loneliness and grief that she is placing blame on Dani. Cursing her in her fit of rage. She throws frames, throws glasses, throws her fist in the wall in the purest rage that has ever dispersed from the woman. She wails at Dani, crucifying her for what she has done to them. And Dani feels every word like a piercing knife. Every word carves into her and allows her regret to blossom. She steps forward to hold Jamie as if she is really there, could ever really fix this. But she is startled back as Jamie shakes her hands about in frustration and pain, bellowing, “Why did you do this to me?” 

Dani tries to answer – forgetting for a moment that this is not just another tangible moment between them, forgetting that Jamie can’t see her. But she is never given the chance to attempt to console her anyway because with a deep, guttural cry, Jamie pulls off her Claddagh ring, Dani’s tether, and barrels it. 

Immediately, Dani is yanked back with a strength akin to thousands of arms tugging at once. Pulling her through walls, through skies, through everything until she is thrown into the water. Her chest is pushed down until she hits the bottom. And she remains there, for centuries it seems. Empty and alone. 

Jamie must have felt remorseful for what she had done because she searches for the ring for hours in her flat. And upon realizing it is the last connection she has to Dani, she acknowledges it as a beacon of hope. She places it back on her finger and promises to never remove it. And with one gust of air through her lifeless lungs, Dani is rising again. Finally returning after what seemed like an eternity. 

Then she is back to hovering because it is the only thing she can do. She gazes at Jamie from across rooms, trying to manifest some kind of happiness for her, but she can’t. Jamie only dissolves further into her sorrow. She practically disintegrates into sobbing when she is reminded of Dani and her absence. And the anguish she feels is so strong, so intense and malignant, that it is transferred to Dani. The blonde can feel it too. She grieves too. She regrets too. And she wants to get rid of it so badly that it is all she can think of. Only strategies and imploring words fill her mind. But she is merely a ghost with no omnipotent ability to rid of the anguish. Just a ghost. Nothing more. 

But the realization of her weakness doesn’t stop how much she wishes to heal Jamie. She wishes to hold Jamie. Press her body against hers to feel her warmth and the beat of her heart. Because Dani is helpless in her aching cold and hollowness. 

She longs to tell her she loves her more than anything, that she hadn’t loved anyone like that before. Hadn’t ever really had the chance to love until Jamie. She is aware the same goes for Jamie too. She knows because Jamie says it, constantly. Whispers to Dani’s picture, or to nothing, that she was all she ever had, all she ever loved, all she’d ever care about. She could never move on, never love again because Dani was her first and her last. The only one that was ever worth her time, her effort, and her love. One chance in a lifetime where Jamie let herself open up and become vulnerable to love another person. But she is shut now, locked so tight that not even a hundred keys or the prying of a crowbar could open her up. 

There is a night, no different than the rest. Another torturous evening where Dani wakes and is catapulted into the same situation. She watches on as Jamie weeps for her, asks the same questions, declares the same messages of love and yearning. Jamie cries out for Dani, and she can only stand and stare, wracked with utter distress. 

Dani finds it is painful and barbaric that she has to go through the same routine of following, hovering, and pleading for Jamie’s healing. Heartless that she cannot reassure her, or tell her she has always been there. It is wicked and excruciating. 

After sitting in the chair across from Jamie and watching her lay there for hours: alone, heartbroken, and exhausted, she can no longer bear it. The woman she loves more than anything can’t crumble like this, can’t live a moment longer like this. Dani decides she will repair it. It doesn’t matter what it takes. Doesn’t matter what she has to do, but she’ll fix it. _Anything,_ she thinks, _I will do anything._

Before she even processes what she is doing, Dani leaps from her chair and hurries forward, abruptly halting just before Jamie. She has not gotten this close before. She is afraid now. Afraid to do anything else because of how unsure she is. She’s almost unfamiliar with Jamie after being gone for so many months. She is petrified that she may hurt her. Dani feels she has no right to touch her, but when she observes just how frail and fractured she looks, she persists and decides it is worth whatever may happen. For, her touch could always supply Jamie with much-needed comfort and reassurance. 

Her shaking hand meets an equally trembling shoulder, and, much to her surprise, she can feel Jamie. She can feel the warmth of her, and her hand grasps tighter as she feels the way her skin dips into her muscles. The feeling of her surges through Dani in a way that is so remarkable and exhilarating. She hasn’t felt, literally felt or touched _,_ in so long. She has even forgotten what it is like. It is so overwhelming that Dani dips her head down, gasping as if it is the first time she has ever taken a breath. 

But to her surprise, Jamie’s quivering promptly stops. She settles and relaxes, consumed by sleep in mere moments. Seemingly for the first time in days, weeks even. 

Dani steps back in shock; unaware of what just happened or if what she did was a good thing. She wonders if Jamie could feel her; she fears that she harmed her. 

Then the dizziness floods through her. Dani feels lighter, and the way she is pulled swiftly feels similar to what she imagines it would be like to be a withered leaf pulled through a gust of wind. She is being urged gently down, lower and lower, but she never goes under. She is not drowning, and she is not in darkness. In fact, where she ends up is so jarringly bright she doesn’t know what else to do but squeeze her eyes closed. 

When she finally opens them, she is surrounded by the finest yellow light and a plethora of flowers and plants. Looking so alive and breathtaking that she feels she could faint from the sight. And she nearly does when she pans the entire scene, and at the end, she sees Jamie there. Standing before her, hair chestnut-colored and curled. She is radiant, so young and beautiful. So beautiful that Dani can barely process the sight. 

Dani gazes down her body, from the sheer, white button-up top that reveals a laced blouse underneath to the pair of black, flowing trousers below. Then she averts her surveying eyes to herself where she finds a silk, loose pink top and a bundle of blush flowers in her hands. Suddenly, a rush of déjà vu is received by Dani. She’s been here before; she knows it. 

She looks back at Jamie and is met with her stunned gaze. Jamie is just staring, looking like she could give out at any moment. She is stiff and nearly trembling. One hand is clenched in a fist at her side and the other is tightly clutching a small jar with an unbloomed moonflower placed in it. Her green eyes are wide and shocked. Her jaw is crooked in contemplation and attempted composure. 

And as if they are puppets, the familiar scene plays out without their control. Jamie, eyes welling with tears, steps forward and places the jar on the counter. But this time she places it with a purpose that leaves the jar clanking and the flower swirling from the force. She eyes Dani, tears streaming down her cheeks, bottom lip quivering, and chest heaving. 

“Here,” she mumbles, breath hitching as she finishes. Eyes never once leaving Dani’s.

Dani’s own thoughts inhabit her mind, but she can’t express them. Instead, her eyes are forced to peel from Jamie’s as she observes the flower, and then like a sweet relief she can look at Jamie again. Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she continues with words she does not want to say. She has a million others she would like to share, but she can’t. Instead, she embeds every emotion she has into the next sentence. 

“Is that…” she pauses as she takes a posturing breath. “Is that… a moonflower?” she asks with a voice that is pleading with Jamie to hear her out. To understand why she had to do what she did. Why she had to leave. She hopes she can hear the absent words that are trapped behind the ones that are forced. _Will you listen to me, Jamie?_

“Yeah,” Jamie sobs, her body wracked with nerves and devastation. Dani can’t even tell if Jamie is pleased to see her, or if she is only burdened and angry. Or if any of this is real at all. It can’t be. _What a strange dream,_ Dani thinks. But she persists because nothing will take her away from Jamie even if it is a moment that is so unjustly fabricated. 

Dani tries to search those beloved green eyes, but they are darting everywhere other than her direction. But when she finally catches them, they are glassy and scared. And it takes every muscle in Dani’s body and every persuasive thought in her brain to resist the force the dream has on her, and she reaches forward, placing her hand on Jamie’s. And the brunette freezes, seized under her touch. She leans forward until her face is close to Jamie’s, blue eyes locked on green. 

“They’re really rare, you know?” she says with a voice ridden with consolation and reassurance. A voice booming with every ounce of remorse and love she has for Jamie. They may have not been the words she would have chosen herself, but somehow she reconstructed them to be perceived like the ones she imagines. 

And she is sure Jamie understands because she softens, and she leans forward too. She heaves out air that had been locked in her chest, and the release leaves Jamie bowing her head and sobbing softly. She composes herself once she is ready to respond, and she nods slightly. Nods in knowing that Dani is sorry and guilty. 

She parts her lips, a trembling sigh leaving before she gathers enough courage to speak out the words she is being forced to say: 

“I’ve got a problem.” _Why did you go?_

“Or rather we’ve got a problem, Poppins.” _I don’t know what to do without you, Dani._

“I’m not sick of you, at all.” _And I miss you, so much._

“I’m actually pretty in love with you, it turns out.” _And I love you, even still. Always. Always, Dani._

Dani tilts her head in understanding. She knows what is behind those words, and she has a tangent of a response prepared, but it won’t leave her lips. The memory won’t allow it. It is a strict memory, so malicious in its stringency. 

She is forced to plaster an admiring smile on her face which is hauntingly contrasting the distraught and apologetic look in her eyes. Stark against the tears that are running down her face. 

Without an ounce of control, her body is sent forward until she feels Jamie’s lips against hers. Full, soft, and warm. She buckles at the feeling, but Jamie’s strong arms are holding her up. Supporting her and holding her so tight she is sure she could shatter. Through their open, desperate kissing, Dani can feel Jamie’s life flow into her. She can almost feel a rapid beating in her own chest, blood flowing through her veins, and the tickling of a thousand pins at her nerves. She is melting in the pleasure and comfort of Jamie’s gentle yet frantic touch. So fervent because there is a fear that this will end. That it will all be gone. 

And the unfortunates of a dream, or a mere reenactment of a memory, is that it is completely artificial and on a strict timeline. So, when Dani feels as though she is melting in the grasp of Jamie, she really is. She is sinking and she slips from Jamie until it is dark again. She screams and wails as she is pulled under. Pleading to go back to speak to Jamie. To cling to her and never let go. She cries and curses whoever is putting her through this cycle. But it is her punishment, she knows, for leaving Jamie. For hurting her in a way that can never be reversed. 

When she wakes again, she observes Jamie. Wonders if she had experienced it too. Had really been there with her or if it was just an abnormal moment that only Dani was a part of. However, when she sees the way Jamie finally wakes up and eyes her shoulder, the one Dani touched, and how she is breathing fast in response to whatever she had experienced while she was asleep, it’s enough of a confirmation for Dani. She felt it too. She was there. 

She looks on as Jamie scrambles her arms around the bed searching for Dani as she is fooled into thinking it was real. That Dani was really with her. But she comes up empty, and it leaves her confused and distraught. Her face scrunches in the realization that it was just a dream, and she falls again into her well of grief. Dani feels awful, but she is selfish in that she is going to try it again later in the evening, so they can see each other once more. 

When the time comes, Dani sits on the bed and touches a drowsy Jamie’s shoulder. And just like the previous night, they both wake in a fond memory they shared together. This time it is when they shared their first snow in Vermont. They laugh and run through the mounds and piles of white fluff. Chasing each other and stumbling. Throwing the snow at each other and squealing with laughter. They have so much they would rather do and say, but they are forced to play out these memories the way they were when they happened. Like enslaved actors, they follow a script. 

A torturous process where they must go about the dream as it played out before, only to have their own personal thoughts stewing within them. Both women alter and punctuate every word to come off as what they really mean. A language they have to learn. And the greatest relief of it all is that in these memories they always touch. They share a kiss, a hold, an embrace. A touch that is yearned for every hour of their days. And they receive the gift of sweet release in their memories. 

It is when Dani awakes again does she piece it all together. She remembers the way Flora would become dissociative when she was a child at Bly. Dani is reminded of her referring to it as being tucked away. That is what she is doing to Jamie. Dani has the ability to tuck Jamie away. She tucks her into their memories where they can interact and continue loving each other even if it is only in a tight and precise way. Regardless, Dani is grateful that she can see Jamie. Can see her laugh and see her smile. Can feel her love and feel her anger. Can feel and see _her._ Anything is everything to Dani. A teaspoon of affection and regard from Jamie is worth tons. 

And after a few nights, Dani learns to control their encounters. It is as if she can pull out a catalog of all of their moments, and she picks one. She sends them there, and she has gotten used to how confining it is. She would not dare protest it because after all it is her only option to be with Jamie fully. Can see Jamie and Jamie can see her. Where they slip into a moment where it feels like nothing changed. They can forget that Dani ever left, and they are just continuing on. Resuming where they left off. 

In every memory, she indulges in Jamie. She indulges in her emerald eyes and her endearing gaze. She indulges in the creases of Jamie’s smile. The way it crinkles her nose and takes over her entire face. The way her lips start pursed until her grin becomes too big to keep them from parting. The way she tilts her head and rolls her eyes up in her timid joy. Dani melts at the sight. 

It is invigorating to feel Jamie touch her. Whether it is mere fingertips brushing her hand or cheek, her soft lips against her skin, or her hands roaming hungrily and passionately. She dissolves in it, and she feels like she is alive again. 

But their memories are brief. Akin to dreams, they span over hours of time but pass as if they only have minutes. Dani is happy that she even gets the opportunity. She would be grateful for a fraction of a second if it means she can share a moment with Jamie. 

They carry on that way almost every night. Dani tucks her away and they spend their time in a memory filled only with happiness. Dani acknowledges that the tucking away is the reality of her being now. It is all she has. But Dani realizes that Jamie only perceives these moments as any other dream. Just like it was so normal, she forgets some as she wakes. Jamie doesn’t understand it the way Dani does. They are merely dreams to Jamie, even nightmares in a sense because fatefully she will never perceive them as actual in the way Dani does. She wishes she can show Jamie they’re real. 

Jamie’s unawareness, and even denial, of the palpability of these memories, has Dani sitting through her heartbreaking confession that it is driving her crazy how often she dreams of Dani. That it hurts more than it heals. She admits that sometimes it fills her heart with the satisfaction she can’t deny, but other times she wishes she could turn off her dreams. Close them out, so she doesn’t have to be taunted by the delusions. 

“I see her every night it seems. Every time it feels so real, and I want to say so much… but I don’t have the words. And...I can feel her. Then I wake up, and she’s not…here,” Jamie tells her therapist. 

Dani observes from the corner of the office, her knee shaking and anxiety rattling her bones. The remorse she feels for putting Jamie through another bout of heartache is a dull, aggravating discomfort that she tries to push away, but it’s annoyingly diligent. 

She feels awfully offended when the therapist assures Jamie that it is a perfectly normal aspect of grief to concoct illusory memories, especially lucidly. But Dani knows these memories are not imaginary. In fact, Dani exerts every bit of energy she has to dip them into these memories. A genuine effort to heal Jamie, and she is heartbroken to know that it doesn't help. She can never heal Jamie. 

_You’re dead_ , she has to remind herself. _Dead can’t heal._

She becomes especially aware of this as the months keep passing by, and Jamie continues with her routine grief. Even if she had tucked Jamie away and tried to express to her how much she wishes she would not long or grieve for her through words that are no longer hers; even if she constructed a new meaning to dialogue that is so worn and old to express to Jamie that she will always be here with her, she is still met with the utterly discouraging image of Jamie continuing through her fits of torment. The emptiness in Jamie is so intense that Dani can feel it brutally carving and hollowing her out. 

Dani feels a fist squeezing at her heart as she sees Jamie wear her clothes. It hurts her to see Jamie stare at herself in the mirrors and in the reflection of the water. Yearning for her to return. After all Dani has done to try and fix this, it has achieved nothing. Jamie’s longing never falters; it still resides deep in her. Stitched in her very being no matter if it is open to be viewed by the world or hidden behind her wall of a smile and strength. The pain will disperse and engulf everything at once, or she can carefully stow it away into a crevice in her chest where it will pound there. Wherever it is, it remains no matter how apparent or not. 

Nightly it seems, Jamie says the same line to her reflection, a mantra in an odd way. It tears Dani apart to hear the small and battered, “Come back to me.”

 _I’m here,_ Dani frustratedly cries through her frustration. _I have always been here._

Overwhelmed and frustrated by her inability to help the woman she loves, Dani decides to stay back for a while. From the farthest corner in a room, she will only observe Jamie’s ways, and it takes everything in her to keep from tucking Jamie away. She fights the urge relentlessly and allows their days to pan out the way they used to. She watches on because it is all she is meant to do. She guards Jamie as best as she can. Dani tries to convince herself that she is protecting Jamie, but she can hardly tell if she is doing anything at all. 

After a while, Dani’s impotence is exhausting. To the point she knows being around Jamie is useless, and she tries to keep herself from rising. She begs to stay in the darkness of the lake, but her emergence and return is forced and inevitable. She is forever constrained by this cycle. 

So, she endures. She loses any lasting grasp on a concept of time, and she solely prevails within the realm of Jamie’s existence. She stands in corners, sits as far as she can as she watches Jamie. The mundane of it all becomes numbing. The same place, the same time, the same Jamie. 

As time drags on, Jamie’s episodes of intense anguish and lamenting become less frequent. Dani is relieved of that, but she wonders why she has to watch anymore now that Jamie is recovering. She doesn’t comprehend why she is forced to watch Jamie move on. 

She fears the torture she is at risk of withstanding if Jamie forgets her. Where days will pass and Jamie won’t even have one passing thought of her. It is a cruel thing to be forgotten, but even more so when it is the love of her life. Dani implores with whatever and whoever that Jamie won’t. 

If Dani weren’t so saturated in her own insecurity and selfishness, she would know that Jamie would never. After all of the love Jamie poured and the work and patience she gave to her, Jamie could never forget. Would never let a day pass by without thinking of her. At the very most, a few moments could move through without Dani crossing her mind. They were tied to one another, whether in the flesh or not. 

She begins to realize this when she becomes lost in studying Jamie. She notes the fact that Jamie will fiddle, twist, and turn her ring on her left hand. Whenever she is focused on reading her books, watching the television, or lost in thought, she touches the ring. Every day, Dani observes the little tic. Every time, Dani imagines Jamie is thinking of her. With the way her lips upturn into the slightest simper, a glisten appears in her eye, she hopes Jamie is thinking of her. The very assumption that Jamie is, causes an indescribable joy within her. Knowing that Jamie can think of her without falling into her sorrow, makes Dani so incredibly happy and proud that she could weep. And the moment she sees that small smile again form on Jamie’s lips, Dani reflects it from across the room until it curls into a prideful grin. Jamie is healing. 

An urge becomes so strong within Dani that she can’t keep it away anymore. It is an urge that has been building and building, bottling up in Dani so full that she fears she is susceptible to explosion. She knows that she needs Jamie. Just once more. Just for a moment. 

After much trepidation, Dani finally gets up and approaches her. She hovers as Jamie lays on the couch, a book fanned out against her chest. Jamie’s eyes flutter tiredly, and Dani takes advantage of the moment to kneel beside her. Her hand hesitantly reaches forward, and she closes her eyes. Anticipating the feeling of Jamie, a sensation she has not felt in months. 

Centimeters away from Jamie, her hand stops. _Should I? I shouldn’t,_ Dani internally contemplates. _I will._

With one deep breath in, she manifests and dreams up a moment between them, unfamiliar and new. Then with her exhale she gently touches her shoulder. 

Opening her eyes, she is standing in a fogged mist, surrounded by the most vibrant, green land she has ever laid eyes on. She is in her usual violet sweater and jeans, the clothes she has worn since she left. But never worn in one of the memories. 

She lifts her chin tentatively, fearing that Jamie won’t be there. Fearing that she has failed given it has been so long since she has attempted to tuck Jamie away. It would be her luck too; the one time she is desperate for Jamie, she can’t even see her. 

Though, when she focuses on the view in front of her, she is relieved to see Jamie there. Although, far away much to her chagrin. But she is there, and she is different. It is not the Jamie she is used to seeing in the other memories: the young, brunette, and spirited Jamie. This time it is the matured, poignant, and greyed Jamie. 

Dani smirks at the revealing factor that this is not an old memory at all. Somehow, through the intensity of her love and longing for Jamie, she has created something new. A new memory. 

There is no force tugging at her lips and tongue to make her spout certain words. No invisible strings yanking at her limbs to go here and there. She is free, untethered, and autonomous. 

“Jamie,” she breathes as she urges forward hesitantly, steps so slow that reaching Jamie could take a lifetime. 

Jamie is confused and delirious, and she’s looking around as she wonders where she is. Then her eyes meet Dani and she is shaking her head at the sight. Face turning into one of anguish. She shuts her eyes as that familiar pining settles in her core. “It’s only a dream, it’s only a dream,” she chants. “She’s not there, Jamie. She’s not.” 

The pain in her voice sends Dani running, and she stumbles into Jamie, collecting her in her arms. But Jamie is stiff and frightened. So afraid to give into something she knows is not real. She is smart enough, even in her sleep, to know Dani is not really there. And with the way she is refusing Dani’s touch, she is too afraid of that disappointment. If she doesn’t give in, then it won’t hurt her. 

But Dani can’t let go. She can’t fight the way it feels to hold her. 

“I’m here, Jamie,” she says softly to instill some reassurance in her. “And I might- I might not be later, but I’m here now.” 

Then Jamie’s frail, small body is melding into hers in response. Like the last puzzle piece being fit and pushed right into its home. The sound of Dani’s voice is enough to push down the guard she has built around herself. 

She relaxes in Dani's clutch. A touch she recognizes and finds endless resolve in. Her arms lift to embrace Dani, a palm placed firmly at her back, and the other tangling into loosely tied up blonde hair at the back of Dani’s head. 

In the crook of her neck, she feels Jamie rest her head there. She nuzzles her face in the curve of Dani’s shoulder, her lips kissing there lightly. Kissing up softly until she is at Dani’s jaw. The sensation sends chills through Dani, prickling at her until she is riddled with goosebumps. 

Then, so tenderly, their lips meet. Both of them tentative in fear of hurting the other, or doing something that is unwarranted. But the solace that is simultaneously felt between them is one that assures them that this is a welcoming invitation. Reminds them that their love is unwavering. It’s her Jamie in her arms, against her now. Just like they are meant to be. 

Dani cries. Not only because of how wonderful the moment is, but also because it is predestined to come to an end. Dani is also aware that this probably won’t ever happen again. She is content in the idea that she doesn't want it to. This is meant to be their last moment. A moment solely for them to properly say goodbye. Then Jamie will move on, maybe taking this dream with her. Holding onto it as it were just another one of their joyous moments together. Carry it around like a symbol of their devotion. Maybe Jamie will determine that seeing Dani here is just the push she needs to go on, to remember Dani only in ways that are heartening. In response, she’ll cease to yearn, cease to lament, cease to plead for Dani’s return. She will accept Dani’s fate. She will move on. 

But for the time being, they seek comfort in one another. Jamie pulls back from the kiss first and presses her forehead against Dani’s. She smiles through her tears. “Dani,” she sobs. “It’s you, Dani.” 

Dani nods against Jamie’s forehead, closing her eyes in the consolation of Jamie’s warmth radiating between them. An offering of her life to her. A link that holds them together. 

“It’s me,” Dani confirms breathlessly, sighing as she kisses Jamie’s cheekbones, the corner of her mouth, and her lips once more. Dani gazes at Jamie again as she matches her smile. 

Jamie cups her face, pulling back completely so she can look at her for what she is. She lets out a breathy and emotional laugh. She grins so wide at the sight of Dani before her, in awe of her presence. Still so obviously unaware if any of it is real or an intensely detailed figment of her imagination. Either way, she marvels at Dani. 

Dani sighs and presses their foreheads together once again, nestling her face gently in the dip between the bridge of Jamie’s nose and her cheekbone. 

“It’s us, Dani,” Jamie smiles, eyes crowded with admiration and disbelief. 

Dani’s fingers tremble against Jamie’s wrists, and she feels lighter now. As she wavers and feels her eyes seal shut, she nods against Jamie, leaving one last kiss to her lips. Long, breathless, and lingering. A touch that must last them a lifetime.

Dani pulls back and clings as best as she can to Jamie, her body weightless and fading. Her lips part and she pushes her words with maximum effort.

“It will always be us.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> *clears throat* Yeah, sorry about that. 
> 
> Hm, why did I write something so awful like this? Good question. 
> 
> Basically, I came in thinking I was going to write fluff, listened to Sea of Love by Cat Power, and, poof, it turned into literally the most devastating thing I have ever written… like ever. But the idea of Dani watching over Jamie was too fascinating and heartbreaking to not explore.
> 
> This one was a tough one to write for sure. It was very difficult to figure out the way tucking away works and how to write it efficiently. I don't know if I succeeded, but I am content with how this turned out. 
> 
> And I’ll happily take prompts or requests if you have them! 
> 
> I hope you all are good, and I also hope you all liked it. I love to see your comments too! Thank you!


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